The People I Let Down
by KToon
Summary: Names. Too many of them. He flipped through, watching them pass by. Dad, Ava, Madison, Jo, Ellen, Bobby, Amelia, Sarah, Cas, Mom, and so, so many more. It wasn’t until he came to the last few pages where he felt like he wanted to crumble to ash. And most of all, Dean.


**I needed some angst after the finale, okay? Please don't kill me.**

Prompt Credit to: Kaylee Frankfurth

 _Imagine Dean going into Sam's room in the bunker and finding a journal. At first he thinks something along the lines of, "My brother is a thirteen year old girl."_

 _Until he opens it and it's labeled , The People I Let Down and inside is a list of names of people that he has let down. Except Dean's not in there._

 _Though when he flips through the rest of the pages, he finally comes across, "And most of all, Dean."_

 _And it's Dean's name written down hundreds of times._

=

Sam and Dean never really got off days.

However, on the seldom chance where they would be in between jobs, the world wasn't in dire need of saving, or one of them wasn't in immediate danger, well, then that was a day in which to cherish. And that was exactly what Dean was doing today. Cherishing it.

Of course there was still shit going on that he didn't even want to waste the time thinking about at the current moment, but he was going to take a damn off-day because he—and Sam—deserved one more than any other normal, suburban lawyer or half-assed waiter working overtime shifts did. Jack was in the wind, their mother was still trapped in the alternate reality, but nope. He was going to sit here, relax, and take one day off because he deserved it. Sam even more.

Ever since Jack had decided to explore the world himself and abandoned them in the bunker, Sam had been in a sort of...pit. Dean wouldn't necessarily say depression, but it was pretty damn close to. The normal, quippy moods that he had been seeing after Cas came back and he and Jack were having some reserved bonding time were no longer to be found, instead the time put towards laying in bed for hours. Any other time Dean would laugh and crack jokes about him acting like a teenage girl, refusing to do anything that his normal, happy self would be doing regularly, but at the moment his big-brother radar was going haywire and he was not one to ignore that. Thus the off day.

In fact, speaking of his little brother, here Dean was. Bringing his famous, specialty burger to him, courtesy of the bunker's kitchen that was not only badass, but one of the best culinary joints he had seen in a long while. _You're welcome, Sammy._

Walking through the winding corridors, he balanced the plates in one hand as he came to his brother's door, which was unsurprisingly closed. He never really saw it open of the late like it would usually be in the past, but he guessed his brother just needed some warranted space. Which he did.

Raising his free hand, Dean knocked lightly on the wood and softly called, "Sam? I've got some dinner."

No answer. Not that that was shocking either; when Sam was truly hurting he would often ignore Dean's tries at conversation, but that didn't mean he shouldn't eat. "C'mon, Sammy. You just going to leave me hanging here?"

Silence. Now that was a little concerning. No matter what, Sam would always give some indication that he was there—that he was alright. It was an unspoken agreement of kinds that they never really talked about, yet both knew at all times. Make sure each other are okay.

"Sam? I'm coming in." Cautiously, Dean moved his fist from the door and to the handle, opening it slowly.

The room was dim. The lights were off, but with the light flooding in from the hallway it illuminated the space enough so he could find the switch and turn on the lamp. Doing so, he discovered the room was...empty? He felt stupid now. Sam wasn't even in the room; most likely, he was in the archives and busying himself with the impossible job of organizing the thousands of files and notes.

Chuckling to himself, he decided to put the food on his bed and leave, maybe go watch that flick he saw on the television earlier because after all, he had nothing better to do. That was when he saw it. A journal, laying closed and facing towards the ceiling, begging to be read and used as ammo for teasing later on.

Snickering, Dean walked over to the mattress and picked up the leather book, removing the pencil that had been sitting on it and placing it on the nightstand that had numerous photos of his family.

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the copious amounts of thirteen year-old drama he was about to discover, he opened to the first page. His heart dropped into his stomach.

The first page was completely blank, aside from five single words that was enough to make Dean want to leave the journal and never pick it up again. Never look at it again. Yet those same five words prompted him to struggle on against a seemingly invisible but rapid current, because he wanted to know more. No, needed to know more.

 _The People I Let Down._

Dean knew Sam blamed himself for a lot of things, and some of those things rightly so. But Sam had never let anybody down, despite what he may think. Sure, he had made mistakes, but none that were unredeemable. In fact, Dean thought he proved himself to everybody he met. Apparently Sam didn't have the same thought process. He turned to the first page.

 _Jessica—_

 _Jess, you were one of the most important people in my life, and I don't think you ever really knew it until I gave you that key and asked you to move in with me. I'd been through hell and back, thick and thin, and yet you never once gave up on me. Why? I mean, why would you do that? Maybe because my life was so overrun with evil that I didn't even want to see the good in people that was there? I don't know. But what I do know is that you helped me more than you can ever imagine. After leaving my brother, I was so destroyed, so broken, but you're the one who fixed that right up. Because, god, Jess, I loved you. I still love you. And there's not one day that I don't think about what I could have done to protect you. Shield you. Save you._

 _I could've told you the truth, but I didn't want to. You were the one person in my life who seemed like they actually cared, that innocence making me seem like a freak if I were to tell you. I know, right? Selfish. So you spent your last moments on a ceiling, burning to death. Because of me. It was all because of me. And I'm so...so sorry._

 _I still think about what it would have been like, had I been normal. I remember that one day we went to the beach down near the bay, and we sat on the rocks, just staring into the waves that would crash into one another, listening intently to the nature's calls of the ocean. Then you said the words I would never, never forget. "Have you...have you ever thought about, what if we had kids? Y'know, a family?"_

 _And I froze, because I didn't know what to do. Calmly, I had responded, "I have, and I still do." Because that was something that I had wanted my whole life, had dreamed of since I was barely eleven. And that was the exact moment I knew I wanted to marry you._

 _I love you Jess. I'm so sorry._

When Dean finished reading the entry, he felt himself unable to breathe. Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath...exhale. He remembered when Jessica had died, and how Sam had fallen so hard under the bus where at points he wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, and just wouldn't...be Sam. It was a form of detachment, and Dean had felt almost as hopeless as he did now.

Before he could notice, he felt himself turning the page. Names. Too many of them. He flipped through, watching them pass by. _Dad, Ava, Madison, Jo, Ellen, Bobby, Amelia, Sarah, Cas, Mom_ , and so, so many more. It wasn't until he came to the last few pages where he felt like he wanted to crumble to ash.

And most of all, Dean.

It was written at the top of the page, in large, stocky lettering, but unlike everybody else's, his wasn't an actual message. His was just...names. His name. Printed what seemed like over a hundred times, each with a date next to it, traveling closer and closer to the present.

 _Dean 04/11/05_

 _Dean 04/23/05_

 _Dean 05/04/05_

It went on, and on...and on. Some of the dates were bolded and circled, and Dean knew exactly what the timestamps were for. They were times in which Sam had thought he had let Dean down.

"You weren't supposed to see that." Dean whirled around to face the doorway, only to see his brother standing and looking tired at the entrance of his room.

"Sam?"

"I didn't _want_ you to see that."

"So what, you think you let all these people down, is that it?" Dean queried. "Sam—"

"Dean, I don't think it, I know it," Sam interrupted. "And don't you dare give me a whole spiel about how a lot of it was your fault too, because we both know that's shit. You had nothing to do with all of this. Now, can I please just go to bed?"

Dean blinked, anger slowly crawling up his throat. He walked closer to his brother so he was only a few feet away, staring up into Sam's features. "No. We're going to talk about this now," he said firmly. "I've given you your space for the past few weeks, I've let you think to yourself, and I've let you not eat as much as you're supposed to because damnit, I want you to get out of this dark place that you're in. But doing this to yourself?" He gestured to the journal. "It isn't healthy, Sammy. I mean, these dates go back to '05, and the most recent one is three weeks ago! Have you seriously kept this up for this long?"

Sam's silence told him all that he needed to know, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"Dean…" Sam began. "Can you just go?"

Dean stared sadly at his little brother, before taking a step forward and tugging him into a huge embrace. Sam resisted at first, before finally relaxing and leaning into the hug. "You have let nobody down," Dean whispered. "Especially not me."

He felt Sam give a ginger smile, and he held him even tighter. He doesn't know how long they stayed like that, but Dean didn't even really care.

Because after all, Sam and Dean never really got off days.


End file.
